In This Life, In That Life
by rockenpnay
Summary: Dreams plague Vaughn's sleep, forcing him to address his life and all the choices he's made involving his career, his family, and his relationship and future with Sydney. Please read and review


Title: In This Life, In That Life â€" [By Genise A. Mora]  
  
Rating: G - PG  
  
Disclaimer: The TV show Alias and its characters Vaughn, Sydney, Alice, SD- 6, and K Directorate are not my property. They belong to the VERY creative people down at ABC, no copyright infringement intended [although I would like to own Vaughn!]  
  
Classification: Vaughn Angst/Drama  
  
Keywords: Vaughn Angst/Drama  
  
Spoilers: everything up to A Broken Heart [1x05]  
  
Summary: Dreams plague Vaughn's sleep, forcing him to address his life and all the choices he's made involving his career, his family, and his relationship and future with Sydney.  
  
Personal note: This is by far my most favorite work to date. I know it's a bit on the trippy side, but I wanted to add a spiritual bit to the story instead of the usual cut and dry romance/angst.  
  
Feedback: VERY welcome. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE R&R.  
  
E-mail: rockenpnay@yahoo.com -- feel free to email me about my stories  
  
AIM: rockenpnay  
  
  
  
In This Life, In That Life â€" [By Genise A. Mora]  
  
=====  
  
The two of us are walking silently, side by side. Neither of us says a word, just keeps on walking along some invisible path that neither of us can see yet know. I feel compelled to look at her, wanting to see if she understood the weird things going on between us, if she knew where we were going, but mainly because I wanted to know if it was truly her. I turn my head slowly, surprised by how much effort it takes me just to turn and look at her. Around us is a forest, light puncturing the deep solitude and sanctuary of the treetops and bathing us in light. I finally rest my gaze on her, admiring the finely defined cheekbones of her face, the straight nose, the mouth that tended to purse upwards stubbornly when she was being willful.  
  
She doesn't say anything, but we keep on walking. My legs move almost mechanically, like I am merely a guest in my own body and not its commander. Finally, we come to a stop in front of a tree stump, a golden box sitting on top of it, its intricate carvings glimmering in the sunlight.  
  
"What is it?" I ask, completely in awe of the box. I tear my gaze from her and stare at it, at the markings on its casing, wondering what was in it and how to open it. I looked back at her, noticing for the first time the golden key that lay above her chest, hanging from a golden chain. I know, for some reason, that this key is what will open the box.  
  
She finally turns to me, a sad look in her eyes, but she does not answer my question. I do not push her because time and experience has given me the wisdom to know that she is a woman who needs to take her own time to accomplish things.  
  
My hand reaches out. I want to touch her, so badly. I yearn to touch her, yearn to feel what her skin would feel like. Would it be soft as it appeared? She does not shy away from my extending hand, watching it with eyes that are as trusting as a doe yet filled with sadness. My hand rests on her arm, and I watch in horror as she screams as if I am burning her merely with my touch. She melts before my very eyes, evaporating into a clear mist that is no longer tangible and is unreachable.  
  
- - -  
  
"No!" Michael Vaughn shouted, sitting up straight in his bed. Sweat cooled on his forehead as he looked frantically at his surroundings. He was sitting in the darkness of his bedroom, not a forest. No box, no key. No Sydney.  
  
He looked to his side, watching Alice as she slept. Her mouth was parted slightly, her blond hair fanning out on the pillow. She slept peacefully, and Vaughn was happy that he hadn't shouted Sydney's name.  
  
He covered his face with his hands. What a dream that had been. Such dreams had been plaguing his sleep for a while, and he was beginning to believe that they were a type of premonition, a sign. A sign of what? He kissed Alice's cheek gently, then pulled back the covers and got up. The house was chilly, especially since all he had on were a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, yet he ignored the cold and headed down into his office.  
  
He was just restless, that's all, he thought. Yes, he was just overworked and tired, so tired that his mind was just getting a bit creative in his sleep. He plopped down into an old armchair that had belonged to his father, the one thing that Vaughn remembers about the man. The smell of cigars, deep laughter, and the smell of the leather armchair when he would go into his father's office and sit on his lap were all that remained of his father. Tomorrow Sydney would be facing another threat to her life, which would explain why Vaughn was sleeping so uneasily. He'd missed talking to her, and was so overjoyed when they'd told him he was reassigned to be her handler that he had allowed a grin to show on his usually business-like, stoic face.  
  
He sat in his armchair, thinking about all the things he'd done with his life. A life in the CIA had not been what he'd imagined, especially what had happened to his father. Dying a young man, leaving a family behind and scarring his own children with his own death was something he would prefer to avoid. But now, when he was nearly as old as his father, he had none of that to worry about. No economic hardships, no family, no wife. He life was as uncomplicated as he'd set out for it to be. But now he felt like he was lacking something.  
  
The CIA had robbed him of his life.  
  
- - -  
  
He could hear her talking through the microphone. Her guardian angel, she had called him. He had to smile at that. Nothing was as sweet to him as hearing her voice again. He didn't give a damn about the promotion she'd gotten for him, he only cared about her well-being, and knew that he was the only one who would sacrifice himself before he let anything get to her.  
  
But now the situation had turned almost deadly. He could hear her and Anna Espinosa, the dangerous female spy from K Directorate. They were reciting a pattern of ones and zeroes frantically, memorizing what they could as the parchment was slowly being soaked with an unidentified liquid.  
  
Now she was running towards the SD-6 van, reciting the numbers out loud so that Vaughn and the CIA would be able to copy them down. Way to go, Sydney, Vaughn thought to himself, proud of her.  
  
"I'm giving SD-6 the wrong number!" She shouted into the microphone. Vaughn's heart nearly stopped. Doing that would ensure her death.  
  
"No! Sydney don't do that!" He said, grabbing the microphone as if it would make her listen to him while he repeated the phrase again, "Sydney, listen to me! This is critical! Sydney, you give them the number. That's an order." He yelled, hoping she would not pursue the issue.  
  
When he received news that SD-6 had gotten the wrong number, but that K Directorate had also been incorrect, he'd nearly collapsed with joy.  
  
Then he'd wanted to strangle Sydney.  
  
- - -  
  
I find myself in the forest again, wandering through a sea of dark green leaves and grass that seem to envelop the bottom half of my legs as I look for her.  
  
I shout her name repeatedly, the only sound answering my calls is my own echo, bouncing back at me as if to taunt me. She's not here, my echo yells, no one's here for you.  
  
I give up on yelling for her, yet I want to find her. Which way to go? It seems like the trees and paths are endless. One wrong turn could bring me back to where I had started. Finally I chose a direction and begin walking.  
  
After what felt like hours, I come across a part of the forest that is different from the rest. The grass is not as thick, in fact there isn't much grass, just patches of it that litter the damp soil. Sunlight bathes this area in a circle of light, and I find a child sitting on a tree stump, watching me intently with her eyes.  
  
I know those eyes. They belonged to my mother.  
  
And they belong to me.  
  
I edge towards her, remembering what had happened in my other dreams. Who is this child? I know the sculpting of her cheekbones; I know that stubborn lip. She studies me, her chin resting lightly on her fist as she sits Indian style.  
  
"Hello." I finally greet her, smiling a little bit to show that I meant no harm.  
  
She has no answer, just looking at me with eyes that are trusting. Far too trusting to make me feel comfortable in her presence.  
  
"Are you lost?" I ask, suddenly feeling very stupid.  
  
She finally shakes her head, "no, but you are." I stare at her, confused by what she is saying.  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"I know a lot of things." She hops down from the stump and walks over to me, and I infer from her height that she's about four years old. She looks up at me, and I feel like a giant compared to her tiny frame.  
  
"Who are you?" I ask, kneeling down in front of her.  
  
"I am the child who was not meant to be," She says, stroking my cheek gently. "I am the child who will be wanted, yet I have no place in your world." Her touch is as soft as the wind, and I can barely feel it.  
  
"Whose child?"  
  
"Do you need to ask that?" She smiles, an impish smile that makes her more human, and more endearing, to me. "I am your child. But I will never be born. I am from a different life, one where you are with her, where you do not have the fate of your world on your hands. Where the only blood you spill is your own." She smiles again, but this time sadly, "and I must leave you now. Your life is what you make of it." She kisses my cheek, and I want to hug her but she begins to walk away. My legs seem to be rooted to the ground, like these stumps that seem to dominate my dreams, and I cannot follow her or stop her.  
  
She leaves. The forest is empty again.  
  
- - -  
  
After closing the door to his office, Vaughn sat down in his chair and closed his eyes. A long day. He'd blown up at Sydney, explaining to her what would have been the consequences had she not given the correct code to SD-6 if Anna had.  
  
His allowed his mind to drift off to Sydney again. Her face, filled with anger at being rebuked, filled his mind and he could see every detail of it. When she realized he was right, the anger had subsided. He'd wanted to kiss her.  
  
He would give the world just to hold her, just to love her. To be with her always.  
  
But that wasn't meant to be. Not in this life.  
  
His dreams had told him so. Touching Sydney would end the special bond between them. The invisible barrier that separated them kept them alive, and should it be broken they would be drown in each other's punishments.  
  
He thought of the small girl, his and Sydney's child who would never be born. He remembered how gentle her touch was, as if it didn't exist which was the truth. The child would never exist. Not in this world.  
  
He picked up his coat and headed out. It was time to return to Alice, to the life that was meant to be. 


End file.
